


passing on the fingerstripes

by defcontwo



Category: Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 14:44:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/888487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/defcontwo/pseuds/defcontwo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>of brothers and legacies and learning when to let go.</p>
            </blockquote>





	passing on the fingerstripes

“I don’t think I’m ever gonna get used to cowl hair,” Tim complains, running a hand through his messy hair for the fifth time that night. 

He and Dick are sprawled on the floor in the Batcave going through files for a case and it’s far enough into the night that they might as well admit that they’re not getting any sleep before the sun comes up. 

“You’re telling me,” Dick says, still half-in his Bat suit sitting cross-legged on the floor, making for a hilarious mental image that Tim’s sleep-deprived brain can’t help but snort at. “You can’t seriously be laughing at me right now, _Doctor Mid-Nite_.” 

“Absolutely not,” Tim says, even as he sneakily snaps a picture of Dick with his phone and sends it to Steph and Cass. “And shut up, I don’t look that much like Doctor Mid-Nite.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Timmers.” 

“Don’t say the s-word,” Tim says, chasing away mental images of his warm and comfy bed. “We’ve been here for hours and we’re still not any closer to figuring out the connection between these murders.” 

“If Alfred weren’t out of town with B and Damian, he’d have already drugged us to sleep by now.” 

“Yep,” Tim says, pulling up another file and opening it with a resigned sigh. “Actually, uh. I was thinking about making a change.” 

“Like you’re gonna finally get a haircut, that kind of change?” 

Tim rolls his eyes. “Hypocrisy, party of Richard Grayson. No, uh. A costume change.” 

Tim tears at the edges of the file, a nervous habit he wishes he didn’t have, but Dick is giving him that look, his earnest you can tell me anything look that always makes Tim want to spill his guts. 

“Red Robin - it served a purpose, you know? I needed it when things were tough. But I’m not - I’m not in that place anymore. Things are really good right now and it feels like, I don’t know - ”

“Like Red Robin doesn’t fit anymore,” Dick finishes for him. 

“Exactly,” Tim says, blowing out a breath. It feels good to actually put what he’s been thinking for months now into words, to put it out in the open and make it real. 

“Maybe Steph still has her Spoiler costume hanging around,” Dick says. 

Tim rolls up a piece of scrap paper and lobs it at Dick’s head. It hits Dick square in the forehead which is a real testament to how tired he is. 

“What? I think purple could really be your color, Timbo.” 

“It’s eggplant,” Tim says, a near Pavlovian reflex from many years of being corrected on the subject. 

“Hey, wait, you know - I think I’ve figured out what the connection is,” Tim suddenly realizes, as he digs for another folder and looks across to where Dick is sitting, only to find that Dick has straight up fallen asleep on the floor. 

“But it can wait,” Tim says to himself, reaching for his phone to sneak another picture. 

Batman asleep on the floor in half of his costume is a picture that Babs definitely, definitely has to see. 

\+ 

Three days later, Tim stumbles into his kitchen for his morning coffee to find Dick sitting on his kitchen counter, a pot of coffee already made and the Nightwing costume folded neatly on the kitchen table. 

“What’s this?” 

“Something I should have done a long time ago, the second I decided to make Damian Robin. But I wasn’t - I wasn’t ready to let it go, you know? And maybe that was selfish of me but Nightwing...Nightwing means a lot to me. I needed more time with it,” Dick says. “But it’s not exactly my main gig anymore, you know?”

It’s true that Dick has been Batman more and more as Bruce has gone out in the field less and less, the limits of his body and his age finally catching up to him. 

Still, some part of Tim had always expected Dick to go back to it. 

He reaches out a hesitant hand, running his fingers over the bright blue symbol across the chest of the uniform. 

Dick does a little half shrug, looking a little bit self-conscious. “You don’t have to take it, if you don’t want to. But Nightwing - Nightwing was good for me. I think it could be good for you too.” 

Tim grins, a little crookedly, as he says, “does it come in red?”


End file.
